Mama

Until just recently, Ella wouldn't say mama. Not that she was unable to say it, she just thought it was funny to say everyone else's name but not mine. She'd look at Hal--"Daddy!", at my dad--"Pop!", and at me--"Daddy!" followed by laughter. Until a few weeks ago, I had only heard her say mama about 3 times, and all three were crying out in her crib when she didn't want to take a nap. "Maaaaaaaammmmaaaaa". Soulful. Gut-wrenching.

Then, one day she just started saying it. Now she says it all the time. She puts her hands up in the air and says, "Up, Mama." She giggles her way through the word while I'm tickling her belly. She comes up and gives me a hug and wants to love me so hard that she'll pretend to bite my shoulder because biting is the only way to express the size of her emotion. (Luckily, she hasn't figured out she can bite when she's mad yet.) And then, "Mama, mama, mama" and a huge smile.

Then, yesterday I had an epiphany of sorts, an Aha! moment, if you will (shoutout to Oprah). We were in the car on our way home from preschool, and Ella was in her carseat chanting my name over and over. Mama, mama, mama, mama, etc. I'd turn back and smile and say, "You're a silly girl," and she'd point to things out the window for me to look at. And I realized in that moment how lucky I was to have waited so long to hear her say my name. I've heard many mothers tell me (in moments of frustration, which we all have) how annoying it is when their toddler constantly walks around poking at them and saying, "Mama..this, Mama...that, Mama..why?, Mama...up!" No doubt, months spent with this level of neediness is exhausting, speaking from experience. But I can honestly say that after 18 months of never hearing my daughter call out to me, except in frustration a handful of times, I don't know if I will ever tire of hearing it.

A friend of a friend of mine passed away this week from a 6-year battle with breast cancer. She left behind a husband and a 6-year-old boy. She found out about the cancer while she was pregnant, and the doctors gave her less than a year to live. She lived 6 more. Another friend of the same friend of mine was diagnosed while 3 months pregnant with lymphoma. She gave birth right before Christmas, and just found out two weeks ago that it has progressed to stage 4 and has entered her brain. She is awaiting a clinical trial and undergoing radiation. The odds are very much against her. Her baby is still in the NICU.

I can't stop thinking about these women. I can't even describe all the thoughts in my head surrounding their battles and lives and loss. They're just like me in so many ways. But did they or will they ever take for granted hearing their child call for them in the night? Or run to them and hug their neck? So many moments missed or lost. I can only say that today, because of their fight, I'm going to hug my little girl tighter and longer, and let her say my name as many times as she wants.